


children of dust and ashes

by butmomilovepeter



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 02:32:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16254881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmomilovepeter/pseuds/butmomilovepeter
Summary: How did I live?Was I kind enough and good enough?Did I love enough?Did I ever look upAnd see the moonAnd the starsAnd the sky?~{Prompt by @mcgarretts-seal-pack on tumblr: So I’ve been wanting this one done for a while but it’s post IW. The people who disappeared are brought back including peter. How about peter dealing with the after math and maybe he isn’t quick to jump back to being Spider-Man. Of course tony notices and helps.}





	children of dust and ashes

Tony has to keep reminding himself that things were going to be difficult and different with Peter now. He wasn’t automatically going to be the kid he was before. 

_ Kid. _

The word played over and over again his head because  _ Holy Shit, Peter is a kid and he had to go through that.  _

The gentle hum of Quill’s ship is soothing, all things considered, and before either of them know it, Peter is curled up on the ground, knees curled into his chest and his head pressed into Tony’s leg. 

Others walk by occasionally, because the ship isn’t huge and it’s holding the Avengers and Guardians and the few other they picked up on the way. 

And they occasionally gave Peter a look that Tony can’t quite read, but they’re all the same. Sympathy wasn’t the right word for it. Something of that form. Guilt, perhaps. 

But he can tell they all kinda love him already, just as Tony predicted they would. 

It’s Gamora who speaks to him first.

He doesn’t know much about her, but he knows is that Quill fought tooth and nail to get her back. He knows she’s strong. He knows who her father was. 

She sits across from them (and Tony probably couldn’t tell you what  _ exactly  _ they were sitting in, space ships didn’t quite make sense to him.) 

He finds his hand resting on Peter’s head. 

“He’s young.” She says, and Tony can’t tell what she’s trying to do. 

“He is.”

Her eyes moved from Tony to Peter, her face softening into a light smile. 

“Nebula hasn’t stopped telling me what a good fighter he was. How old is he?” Her voice is uncharacteristically soft compared to what he’s learned about her, and it somewhat compels him to tell her Peter’s life story. 

“Seventeen. And he is good, I’ll give him that.” He looks down at Peter, and he notices how he’s practically a  _ baby  _ compared to the others. Gamora must sense his shift in demeanor, because her soft gaze turns into guilt. 

“I didn’t mean to bother you, but you look like shit, Stark.” Her voice is clear-cut and icy, but there’s slight sympathy and concern in her eyes. Tony sighs and nods. 

“I see, you were nominated for Peter-watch so I could sleep?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. She smiles tightly and nods, standing up and extending a hand to Tony. He looked back down at Peter before huffing and taking her hand. 

“If he has a nightmare, don't be alarmed. It happens all the time.” Tony told her, almost completely nonchalantly, only a hint of sympathy. She furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Why is that?” 

Tony sighed, stuffing a hand in his pocket.

“Kid’s been through a lot. Too much, really. Orphaned, bitten by a spider, had a love one die and he blames himself, building dropped on him…” Tony flailed his other arm around and tried to ignore Gamora’s shocked look. “And then all this shit on top of it? It’s been a miracle he’s even sleeping now.” 

Tony almost sat back down, but exhaustion was gripping at him, and he wouldn’t stop looking over Peter if he stayed. 

“Go. Strange has been looking for you anyway.” She said. 

“You sure you can handle him?” 

“I’ve had my fair share of nightmares, Stark.” 

 

~

 

_ There’s dust in his lungs. There’s dust in his stomach. There’s dust on his tongue and teeth. Hands are fading. People are screaming in his brain and it’s making what’s left of his body  _ **_hurt._ **

_ He wants to scream. He wants to scream. He wants to scream.  _

_ He does.  _

 

“Easy, Peter. It was just a dream.” A soft voice pulls him out of his sleep, and he felt the vibration of a scream die on his lips. “You’re alright.” The voice is unfamiliar, but it somewhat calms him down long enough to open his eyes. He’s in Mr.Stark’s weird windbreaker thing, and his new suit, which although cool, isn’t as soft as his old one. He’s wearing too many layers and it’s getting too hot. He rips off the windbreaker, but clutches it too his chest before he even registers that someone was sitting next to him. 

His looked up at the green woman, and he thought he’d be scared of her, but instead she had kind eyes, motherly eyes, kinda like May’s or Pepper’s. He had here a lot about her, from Quill’s absent minded chatter about her while he flew the ship.  He had seen her around, but fell asleep before he got introduced. 

“Do you know who I am?” She asked softly. Peter nodded, still clutching the sweatshirt. 

“You’re Gamora. Mr.Quill told me about you.” He responded shakily. She smiled lightly. 

“Mr.Quill, huh? Good things I hope.” 

Peter wanted to respond, but his hands were still shaking. Actually, all of him was shaking, and he was still trying to catch is breath. He jumped a bit but didn’t pull away when she put a hand on his shoulder. He felt tears prick his eyes, and he embarrassingly wiped them away before she noticed. Or maybe she did, but she didn’t say anything. His body ached with every moved and he just wanted it to  _ stop.  _ It was supposed to be  _ over,  _ wasn’t it? He was supposed to be okay, because everyone was alive and Thanos was gone. He was going home to be with May and Ned and MJ. And Tony. He was supposed to be  _ Spider-Man.  _

He wasn’t supposed to be crying without reason in front of Gamora, one of the toughest people on this ship. Nightmares of the Vulture and of Ben shouldn’t be mixed in with nightmares of his senses going wild while his organs turned to ash and dust. 

“Are you okay?” She wondered after a minute. Peter almost nodded, but the pain flooded through him again and he shook his head. 

“Dunno. I can’t tell yet.” He mumbled, flexing his still-shaky fingers. She nodded and pulled Peter close, and for some reason, even though he had only know this woman for a couple minutes, it wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t embarrassing. It was safe and warm and it made him feel better. He listen to her heartbeat, and that mixed with the ship’s humming and the old 80s music somehow evened out with his senses and made him calm.

Then the pain flooded back. 

“It was different for you, wasn’t it?” She confirmed in a low voice, after he groaned at the aching. Peter nodded against her, wet tears running down his face. One hand was placed on his neck, the other rubbing circles against his back with his head in her lap. It was like he was with May, and suddenly he was hiccuping too. 

“It hurt. I don’t think it was supposed to.” Peter choked out. Gamora shuddered.

“It still hurts.” She stated. Peter nodded in confirmation, then sobbed a bit. 

But she didn’t move. She didn’t flinch. She wasn’t weirded out or out of her comfort zone. 

She just held him close; didn’t even look at his face. There wasn’t an ounce of selfishness to it. 

“Ms.Gamora?” He sniffed. 

“Hmm?” She hummed. He curled in closer to her without hesitation. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He sighed. She chuckled, running a hand through his hair. 

“Hon, you woke up screaming, you’re in pain, and you haven’t stopped crying yet. I  _ want  _ to do this.” 

If you told pre-spider-bite Peter that he was going to cry in the arms of a green alien woman after coming back from the dead, he would have never believed you.

But now, as that was happening, it seemed to be one of the least crazy things that had happened to him these past years. 

  
  


~

 

It’s been a week since he came back to Earth, and the world wants Spider-Man again. Thing is though,  _ Peter  _ doesn’t want Spider-Man. That meant putting the suit on. The suit he  _ died  _ in. 

Reunions had come and gone, and it seemed like that rest of the world was back to normal. 

Not for Peter.

He heard a siren go off, and his senses told him to go help.

But he pulled the covers over him and prepared for another sleepless night. 

 

~

_ “Sir, Peter woke up screaming again.”  _ FRIDAY chimed, alerting Tony and waking Pepper in his arms. He sighed, not out of annoyance at Peter, but just out of pure stress for him. 

“Did his aunt work the night-shift again?” He asked.

_ “Yes, boss. According to his watch, his heart rate spiked. Not quite panic attack levels, but he’s having some breathing difficulties.”  _

“Go on after him,” Pepper mumbled sleepily. “I don’t like him being alone.”

Tony peeled himself off the couch and ran a hand down his face. 

“Neither does his aunt, but money is tight with them. No matter how many times I offer to help,” he added. “Be right back.”

 

Climbing in through Peter’s window was kind of creepy out of context, but he knew it was unlocked. He retracted the suit as soon as he entered. Peter was sprawled out on his floor, the fourth time he had fallen out of bed that week, and Tony immediately scooped him up despite his thrashing and protests. 

“Calm down, kid!” Tony yelled, placing Peter on the bed and practically pinning his arms to his sides. After a moment, he took a breath and looked at Tony, who cupped his face gently. 

“Tony,” he breathed out. “ _ Tony.” _

“The one and only, kiddo.” Tony sat in front of him, pushing sweaty curls away from his eyes. 

One second Peter was catching his breath, the next his lip quivered and he was launching himself into Tony’s arms and clinging tightly, sobs echoing throughout the apartment. 

“I don’t wanna feel this way anymore, Mr.Stark,” he cried, shaking his head vigorously. “It still  _ hurts  _ and I just want it to  _ stop.”  _

Tony couldn’t quite get words out, so instead he pulled Peter into his lap and rocked him while he sobbed. 

_ He’s a kid He’s a kid He’s a kid He’s a kid _

“I know, I know,  _ I’m sorry.”  _ He finally responded. 

“Can’t even look at the damn suit.” Peter said through gritted teeth.

Tony looked around, noticing the suit had disappeared from his room. He inhaled sharply.

“You don’t have to be Spider-Man, you know.” Tony offered. 

“But I wouldn’t get to do stuff with you.” Peter replied weakly. 

“Hey!” Tony moved and took Peter by the shoulders. “You  _ know  _ you are more than just Spider-Man to me, right?” 

Peter shrugged. 

“Even before all this,  _ believe  _ me, I’ve always seen Peter Parker. It was never Spider-Man.” 

Something gleamed in Peter’s eyes, hope, perhaps. 

“You mean that?” He asked in a small voice. Tony almost laughed. 

“Course I do, you’re my boy,” Tony smiled. “And you’re not replacing Ben if you let me in, if that’s what you think.” 

Peter wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

“I used to, but not anymore.”

Peter hugged him again, and it didn’t even phase Tony. It wasn’t accidental, and Peter wasn’t dying. Paternal instincts took over, and neither one moved until Peter fell asleep.

Tony stayed that way a little bit after, too. 


End file.
